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“You scared the living daylights out of us,” Starla says from her place on the other side of my bed.
God, it feels good to hear her voice. To know she’s not a broken, unconscious body on a shed floor somewhere. I try to pull myself together as I look at her from within Gabriel’s arms. Her face is bare of makeup once more, just clean and fresh and beautiful. Her smile is playful, but I can see the lingering fear inside the hazel depths of her gaze. Rising from her chair, Starla grips my hand and gives it a warm squeeze.
“I just had to be here when you woke, but I’ll give you two a moment alone. I’m going to get some coffee. Gabe, would you like any?” Starla makes her way swiftly across the room and pauses by the door long enough to get his answer.
“Yes, please.”
While I would love to taste the flavor, for once, I don’t crave a cup of coffee. The caffeine would be way too much for my anxious heart. When I look at Gabe’s face more closely, I can see the dark circles under his eyes. He looks as though he hasn’t slept in days, and I wonder if he might not be as well as I first thought or if, in fact, I’ve been asleep that long.
As Starla’s footsteps fade down the hall, I take Gabe’s face in my hands, soaking up the wonderful warmth, the intensity of his eyes, that tells me he’s alive.
25
Gabriel
“Is the baby okay?”she asks as soon as we’re alone.
The anxiety in her voice makes my heart twist painfully. “She’s fine,” I assure her quickly. “You’ll need to rest and recover, but we’ll all be okay. You needed fifteen stitches and had some internal bleeding, but the knife managed to miss all your vital organs and the baby.” I press my hand gently to Winter’s belly and melt when I feel our baby kicking inside her, telling me she’s still there.
Winter’s hand joins mine, and she laughs even as tears stream down her cheeks. “I thought I saw you get shot,” she says after a minute of peaceful silence.
I nod, my eyebrows furrowing slightly as I think about our wedding day and how the perfection of it had turned so horrible in an instant. “I was shot. In the shoulder.” I point to the spot I was hit just above my left breast, a few inches down and in, and I would be dead right now, but I don’t need to tell Winter that, not when she’s clearly in distress. “It’s nothing serious. A few stitches, and I’m practically as good as new.”
Winter gives me a skeptical look, but presses her lips to mine. Heat courses through my veins as I respond to my wife. After a moment, she pulls away again, her curious eyes burning into mine.
“What happened?” she demands.
Guilt pours through me, making me drop my gaze momentarily as I try to collect my words. “That was Mac’s widow, Tiffany. She and Mac’s brother, Wyatt, put together a group of men—relatives—who were pissed about us executing the guys who raped Athena. They’re the ones who have been coming after us for months. With the men constantly posted at the house and around the club, they hadn’t been able to get to us, so the wedding was the perfect chance.”
Winter’s face pales, and she grips my hand more firmly. “Were you able to catch them, then?”
I nod. “The men didn’t get far, even with guns. After the last time they attacked the guys at the club, I had everyone carrying firearms, so even though it was our wedding, everyone was well armed. We captured Wyatt and two others. Someone killed the fourth by accident… and Tiffany is dead.”
“What will happen to the men you captured?” she asks, her tone steady.
“The club will handle them.” My tone comes across as gruffer than I had anticipated, and Winter doesn’t protest. I want those men dead for all they’ve done to our family, for being the reason Winter is in this hospital bed.
God, that moment of fear when I had seen the knife plunge inside her, the utter terror as blood stained Winter’s beautiful white dress. It had been the best day of my life, seeing Winter walk down the aisle, stand across from me, and vow to love me all her life. And then my dream come true had twisted into a nightmare as I thought I might lose her all in the same day.
My heart still hammers painfully in my chest every time I picture her lying there, on a bed of flower petals, her eyes closed for what I feared might be forever. I could have lost both Winter and the baby right then and there. No bullet would have stopped me for long. Not even one straight to the heart. I would have postponed dying to see that Winter made it to a hospital so she and our baby could be saved.
“What will happen to Tiffany’s son, Parker, then?” I can see the compassion on Winter’s face. She doesn’t like the thought of him being an orphan, now that he’s lost his mother too.
“The club will take him in,” I assure her. “Max has agreed to raise him alongside her little girl.”
She nods slowly, her eyes filled with infinite sorrow. “Is it over?” she asks in a small voice.
“Yes, it is.” Cupping her face gently, I give her a deep kiss. “I’ll always protect you,” I murmur, pressing my forehead to hers.
She nods against me, her fingers combing into my hair. “I thought we came to Whitfield to getawayfrom the violence and start a new life,” she says with a breathy laugh.
“It’s done now,” I promise. “No more ghosts to haunt us from our past. We can start fresh.”
“I thought I’d lost you,” Winter breathes, her fingers tightening in my hair as she clings to me.
“I will never leave you.” I stroke her fiery locks gently as I capture her lips once more.
After a long moment, Winter finally releases me, a smile spreading across her face. “I got to see our daughter,” she says, and a breathy laugh bursts from her. Then her face contorts in pain as she presses a palm to her stitches.
